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"And that's the end of my first LIGHT , and unwillingly free, training session. Hope you guys enjoyed it!" Larry announced to his exhausted team. "Don't forget to tell your friends and family about me. Seriously guys, help me become a fulltime trainer so I can finally quit that awful job at the Trusty Slab…no offense, JimBob and Manward."

"On the contrary, I couldn't have said it better." Manward said. He was almost as fresh as before the training had begun, "Well, of course I could have, but yours was a good choice of words too."

"None…taken…Larry" JimBob said with a hoarse voice and in between heavy breaths, like an old man deprived of his oxygen tank. "We…had…fun. Right, Sandy?..."He tried to smile, but he had a coughing fit so bad that he passed out on the sand.

"Anyway," Manward said as he stepped on JimBob and continued walking without a care, "I have to go now. See you in my nightmares, losers."

"We'd better go too, before he gets a sunburn." Sandy said. She picked up a snoring JimBob and carried him in her shoulder. "Thank you, Larry. Hey, if this works out and you end up having more training sessions, let me know! I haven't had so much fun in a while. Can you believe that coming here was JimBob's idea?"

"No way! I thought you had dragged him along. He doesn't really strike me as the exercising type. Huh, you learn something new every day. Will he be okay, though? I think this session of running six kilometers, swimming five laps from the shore to the buoy, climbing up the highest hill in town and then running all our way back here was a bit too much for him. Did I overdo it?."

"He'll be fine, he just needs some rest." Sandy said, hearing how JimBob sleep talked about how much fun he'd had, even if it had costed him his legs, his arms and pretty much all his body. "I don't think we'll be doing much more today other than staying at home and waiting for him to recover, though. Maybe I should call Patrick and tell him to bring those superhero movies he and JimBob like so much."

Sandy said goodbye to Larry again before going home. Once she was gone, Larry turned around and put his hands behind his head as he watched the dancing waves of the ocean. The beachgoers were more numerous now, and while he enjoyed all the attention his muscular body gained him, what made him truly happy was that his training session had been a success.

"Well, not totally. I didn't get paid." He muttered to himself while he winked at a group of laughing girls who were staring at him. "But they seemed to enjoy it, even Manward! That alone should make me worthy of an award."

He posed, impressing a group of tourists, who then began to take photos of him.

"Nice Job, Larry." He said as he changed into another pose that earned him a few gasps of surprise and admiration, "nice job indeed…wait."

He gently pushed away a few of his admirers and looked closely into the ocean.

The buoy.

Someone was clinging to it.

Larry squinted, and his blood froze.

"Charleston!" Larry exclaimed. He had forgotten completely about him, and he had been so invested in the training that he hadn't noticed his absence.

For how long had Charleston been hugging the buoy and struggling not to drown?

One hour? Two?

Dammit! What kind of trainer am I?

Before anyone could realize what was happening, Larry ran toward the shore and dived into the water. He swam at a speed that rivaled that of a dolphin. "I'm coming Charleston, hold on!"

He reached the buoy in what must have been a world record.

"I'm here dude, it's going to be—Charleston?" there was no one there. Larry sawn around the buoy, his eyes desperately looking for the skinny guy, but he was gone. "Charleston?! Oh, sh—"

He took a deep breath and dived into the sea.

By then, a few curious beachgoers had formed a group and were watching the scene as if it was a soap opera. Some of them were using binoculars and describing the scene to their worried fellows.

"This just in!" Out of nowhere, John Elaine appeared together with his faithful crew. Before continuing, he made sure there were no eccentric pirates around that would steal the spotlight from him, "A buff guy, infamously known as Larry the mobster in his youth, is attempting to rescue a man with only one eye from drowning like an idiot on international television. Will this former evildoer find his redemption by rescuing a stranger? Or is this the tragic end of an antihero? What will—Whoa!"

John Elaine fell to the sand as a cheery young woman and her group of friends pushed him away and stole his microphone.

"Hello, guys!" the woman and her friends cheered, "My name is Pearl, and I just wanted to invite all of you to my performance next week in the Beach Palooza! It's gonna be awesome! Right, girls?" The girls behind her cheered again, which earned them a thumbs up from the cameraman. "Oh, and by the way, don't forget to stop by at the Trusty Slab, the best restaurant in town! Come on by and maybe you can get my autograph before I become a celebrity! Right, girls? Girls?"

Sadly for Pearl, her friends were now together with the curious group that surrounded Larry and the newly rescued Charleston. Before Pearl could react, John Elaine took the microphone away and frowned at her.

Pearl just giggled as if it all had been an honest mistake before running to her friends.

"Darn it! Nobody respects reporters these days!" John said as he and his crew tried their best to make their way through the curious mob and get a good shot of the rescue, "at least that shot of the girls cheering will improve my ratings."

In the meanwhile, Larry was in a dilemma. He knew what he had to do to save Charleston, but he couldn't do it.

He had given a mouth-to-mouth many times before, especially in the summer he had worked as a lifesaver. He was fully aware that all that mattered was to save people's lives. He was not squeamish about the details.

That wasn't the problem.

What really bothered him was….

This guy hasn't met his wife yet. I'm going to kiss him before she ever does! It was the only thing Larry could think about. I'll ruin their special moment! That's not cool! Then again, neither is drowning!

"Dammit Larry, focus!" Larry exclaimed in frustration and, without realizing it, punched Charleston in the stomach with his two giant fists.

Charleston immediately straightened up and coughed up a mouthful of water directly to Larry's face. He coughed for a long while before he could speak again. "What happened? Where am I? Oh, I had the strangest dream! I dreamed I was on a training session with a bunch of fools and then—" Charleston shook his head and rubbed his eyes. He spat the remaining water in his mouth. "Well, at least it was only I dream. I think I'm just hungover again."

He smiled in relief, but reality hit hard when he became aware of the dozens of people starting at him. A few of them were holding up their cellphones.

Charleston's heart sunk to his stomach.

"Dude!" Larry put a hand on his shoulder, "you're okay! I'm so glad. For a moment there I thought you—"

"You gigantic idiot!" Charleston pointed at Larry and glared daggers at him. "It was you! You left me to—"

Larry covered his mouth.

He had a horrified scowl on his face; he managed to change it into a somewhat concerned smile before he looked at the members of the curious group.

He grabbed Charleston and carried him with one arm. "Poor guy, he swallowed so much sea water that he's delirious. I'm going to take him to a more secluded place so he can recover. Give us some space and don't follow us, okay? And stop recording and delete those videos! That's not cool, y'all!"

The ones that were recording blushed at his comment and did as they were told.

Out of respect for the unexpected hero, the members of the curious, meddling group quickly scattered and went back to their activities, though Larry's rescue would probably be their most interest anecdote to tell during diner in the months to come.

"Wait, no!" John Elaine exclaimed. He had just managed to reach the center of the group when it disbanded. All he could see now was Larry's back as he carried away a struggling Charleston. "Where are you taking him? Come back! He's my news! MY NEWS!"

He fell to his knees and cried. Another failed news coverage. It was the fifth that month.

The cameraman tried to comfort him, but he was too distracted by a match of volleyball where more of the players were women.

For him, that made their day at the beach a total win.

Larry barely had time to get inside his trailer before he lost control over Charleston.

"Put me down! I said put me down!" Charleston screamed as soon as he managed to get Larry's hand off his mouth after biting him.

"Alright!" Larry dropped Charleston in the couch and looked at the painful bite marks on his palm. "That really hurt! You're one annoying dude, you know that?"

"I almost died because of you!" Charleston coughed a few times. His already crimson face became even redder. "Don't expect me to thank you for this!"

"Don't put it like that." Larry's temper died out at the harsh accusation. "It was an accident. I wouldn't have left you behind if I had noticed your absence! I know I have a bad reputation but…"

"I don't care if it was an accident or not!" Charleston could barely talk, let alone scream, thanks to his constant coughing fits. "I ….hate….you!"

Charleston began to cough savagely. Larry let him be while he watched him in silence.

He waited for Charleston to calm down before throwing a towel at his face. Then, he went to the kitchen of his trailer. "You're going to be sick as a dog if you don't get warmer right now. Here, let me make you a tea. It tastes like rotten socks forgotten in a locker, but it will make you feel better."

"Who are you, my mom?" Charleston said, refusing to use the towel given to him.

"That would be a bit shocking, wouldn't it?"

"I wouldn't bother with that disgusting tea if I was you. I'm not going to drink it."

"Then don't drink it." Larry said as he brewed the water and added the spices. "You cursed five-year-old…"

"You incompetent, washout jock."

"You puny, one-eyed flea."

"You poor excuse for an ex-delinquent."

"Huh, I'll take that as a compliment." Larry laughed. Then, he looked at Charleston, "okay, are we even now?"

"Not in the slightest." Charleston replied. It was then that he realized how tired and cold he really was. He leaned against the couch and cover himself with the towel as if it was a blanket. "But talking to you is boring, so shut up."

"Fair enough."

While Larry was finishing the tea, Charleston inspected the place.

"What is this dumpster?" he said with disgust.

"I thought you wanted me to shut up." Larry rolled his eyes. He was pouring the tea in a cup that read '#1 beach hunk'. "It's where I live. Larry's Luxurious Lobby. Or LLL for short."

"Luxurious? Is this what you call this messy trailer? I don't want to know what you understand for 'disastrous' then."

"It's a work in progress. I can't do much with my current pay. Mr. Slabs is a good man, but I don't think he has forgiven me for poisoning him …I get paid below the minimum wage, dude."

"You poisoned Slabs?" Charleston said, slightly impressed. "You know, maybe you're not so bad after all. I still hate you for almost killing me though."

"Stop saying that. It was an accident!" Larry snapped at him after he handed him the cup with the tea.

"Well, you cause much chaos accidentally."

"It's like a curse, dude." Larry lamented.

"I'd say it's a blessing, but think whatever the hell you want." Charleston smelled the tea. The scent was so strong and disgusting that it made him gag. "What is this? It looks like a potion out of a witchcraft book! I think it growled at me!"

"I warned you."

"I'm not drinking this!" Charleston exclaimed, getting the cup as far away of him as he could, "if the sea water didn't kill me, this surely will finish the job!"

"Fine." Larry said, about to take the cup from Charleston's hand. "I hope you're ready to be sick in bed for the next two weeks."

Charleston hesitated, and took the cup back into his hands. "And who said I wouldn't drink it?"

"You."

"You think I'm scared of a stupid cup of tea?"

"Yes."

"Oh yeah?" Charleston stood up. The towel hung from his shoulders like a cape. "Then watch this."

In almost one gulp, he drank all of the disgusting brewage. Larry couldn't hide his shock.

Ew! I would never do that, not even if they paid me one million dollars! He thought as Charleston finished the tea and smashed the cup against the floor as if he had won a drinking contest. This guy is crazy!

"That was sick, dude!" Larry said with a small hint of admiration. He looked down at the floor, "Oh no, that was my favorite cup. Well, the show was worth it, I guess."

"I said I'd do it! Charleston comes through again!" Charleston said with the pride of an athlete that just won a gold medal. "And I don't know what the whole drama about the flavor was about! That tea tasted like nothing. Perhaps a bit sweet, like cinnamon, and a dash of vanilla."

What? Larry thought, so confused that he could only nod and agree with Charleston. This guy's taste buds are a mess! Or maybe he just has a horrible taste in teas.

"I feel much better now." Charleston said. He then looked at his arms and legs, and his face became as angry as before, "hey, where are my buff muscles? You said your training would put meat in my bones and increase my stamina and I don't know what else!"

"Firs of all, you didn't even finish the training session." Larry said in the same way a stern teacher scolds a student, "Second…getting strong takes months, dude. You honestly didn't think one single session would be enough, did you? I make training routines, not miracles!"

Charleston didn't bother to answer. Instead, almost like a small kid, he folded his arms and pouted. "What a scam!" He kept quiet for a while, and added with concealed embarrassment, "did someone else fail to complete the training?"

"Nope." Larry shrugged. "Sorry."

"Not even JimBob?" Charleston asked.

"Not even JimBob. Sure, he passed out after we were finished, but—"

Charleston tried to stand up, but his legs failed him and instead he fell on the trailer's dirty floor. All he could see was the stained roof and Larry's concerned face looking down at him. He asked him something, but Charleston didn't listen.

His thoughts were too loud.

Why? I tried my best, but I still could only do my worst! I failed, Karen. I couldn't do it, not even for you.

"I'm sorry, Karen." He said, without realizing he was talking out loud.

Larry heard him.

"Hey…" he said with a compassionate expression that sickened Charleston ", this really means a lot for you, doesn't it?"

"Did you figure that one on your own?" Charleston said bitterly. "And stop looking at me like that. You look hideous."

"You're awful, Charleston." Larry walked away and opened his fridge. He came back and picked Charleston up with ease, as if he was made of feathers. Without saying anything and before Charleston could question him, Larry put a cold can on his hands, "Here. Drink that the night before you meet your wife. The effects are only temporary, and it will make you hallucinate, but it will also make you stronger and help you gain muscle with little to no exercise."

Charleston arched his eyebrow and looked at the can. It was a protein infused milkshake, strawberry flavored.

"Are you serious?" he said, incredulous that it would work. He looked at Larry with suspicious eyes, "I don't get it. Why don't you just sell this on the market? You'd be stinking rich!"

"I tried." Larry remembered what a mess that whole situation had been, "but let's just say I was using some ingredients not allowed by the goverment, and my poor milkshakes had to be discontinued. I didn't know it was illegal, I swear."

"So now you just keep them inside your fridge or…?"

"No, this is the last one in existence. I wanted to keep it as a souvenir of yet again another redemption attempt that incredibly backfired, but you need it more than I do." With a darker tone, Larry whispered, "you can also think of it as my way of bribing you. After all, I didn't forget about you in the beach, did I? I didn't accidentally leave you in the buoy. It was all a big misunderstanding, right?"

Charleston thought about it.

Sure, telling the truth to everyone and watching Larry being chased by a furious mob for being so irresponsible would be hilarious.

Then again…

He looked at his body. The body he would have to train for months, maybe years, before seeing any results.

His reunion with Karen couldn't wait that long.

He knew what his priority was.

"Of course." Charleston said, pretending his leg was in pain, "I just forgot to do my warmups and had horrible leg cramps. It was a good thing my trainer Larry was there to save me."

Larry smiled. "Glad to see we understand each other."

They shook hands.

I'm not doing anything wrong. I'm helping this guy have a great first meeting with his wife! Larry thought as Charleston left his trailer. He was holding the milkshake close to his heart, Sure, the means I used may be a bit shady, but I'm really just doing this to help them be happy. My reputations as a trainer is second to that. I just hope Charleston has a better hallucination resistance than Mr. Slabs…

Hey Charleston! I'm fired.

Karen stared at the text message.

She deleted it.

She typed it again and deleted it once more.

"It would be easier if I could just call you…" Karen muttered, putting her cellphone on the table. "But we made a promise, and I will keep it."

Their agreement prevented them both from calling each other, but they could still send small texts messages or images via their cellphones.

They had to be short and concise, and more than a real way of communicating important things, it was just their way to update their status to each other.

"Besides, I don't really want to trouble you with these kinds of news." Karen looked at her cold coffee and uneaten food. She didn't know why she had gone directly to that restaurant after being fired instead of going home. She wasn't hungry, and she hated the food they served in that place. "Damn, what a mess."

She remembered the way she had reacted when her boss told her the bad news. Everything the book had taught her became meaningless the moment her emotions took over.

She had screamed at him words that would make a sailor blush in embarrassment, and she had stormed out of the office without picking up her things or saying goodbye to anyone.

"I only had useless junk in my desk." Karen said, trying to convince herself she wasn't mad about it anymore. "And what if I didn't say goodbye to my coworkers? It's not as if they'll miss me anyway. I don't care about it at all."

At the very least she had managed to resist the impulse of pulling down the fire alarm.

Wow, good job Karen. Keep it up, and maybe in ten years, you'll be a slightly affable and likeable person.

"Oh, shut up me." She said to herself.

If she could see anything positive about her whole situation, it was that her boss hadn't fired for the correct reasons.

At least not totally.

"Oh, you old decrepit fool." Karen smiled without humor, "I didn't lose track of the Jet Pack or the Invisibility Spectacles 3000. See, it wasn't because of a mistake I made that they got lost." She took a sip of her ice-cold coffee, "I wonder if you'll ever realize I was the one that stole them in order to send them to my dear long-distance husband, just like I did with many other things. I'm surprised it took you this long to notice."

Now that I think about it, I should have been put under arrest, not fired. Karen closed her eyes, which kinda raises the question of why I got so angry in the first place. In many ways, it was the perfect chance to prove I can be a kinder, better person. I could have just left the office without making a big deal; it's not as if I really had the right to be mad. And maybe saying goodbye to the others wouldn't have hurt. I know all that, and yet…I still acted as if I was the one being wronged. I screwed up.

Karen opened her eyes again and picked up her cellphone. She typed a message.

I tried, Charleston. But it seems I'm cursed with always being myself, no matter how hard I try to change.

She read it, and laughed at the thought of how Charleston would react if she send it to him.

"Well," Karen said as she deleted it. "It's not going to happen."

She asked for the check, paid for her disgusting dinner and decided to go home. When she existed the building, she discovered the stars and the moon had already come out.

"Really?" Karen looked at her watch, "I stayed there the whole day? No wonder my body feels numb."

She walked to her home without really caring about the people around here. Just before she reached the apartment building, she stopped in a store nearby.

This was a horrible day. I deserve a little treat, if nothing else. Karen thought as she entered the store. I hope they still have some of those shortcakes filled with cream and strawberries…Yes, here it is! And it's the last one too! Maybe this day didn't suck as much as I thought.

"Bonjour, madame!"

Karen screamed in surprise. She tried her best not to, but it was impossible not to feel surprised when you are caught off guard by a tall man dressed in a diving suit.

"Sorry! I thought you had seen me." The man with the French accent immediately apologized. He knelt to pick up the shortcake Karen had dropped and handed it to her. "I'm very sorry."

"Yeah," Karen said, looking at her now destroyed shortcake. "I'm sorry too. Thanks for making my day even better, Captain Nemo. This was just what I needed."

"Actually, my name's Jacques. My friends call me Frenchy though. It took me a while to realize why."

"You don't say." Karen said dismissively before putting the destroyed cake back in the stand before the owner saw her and made her pay for it. "Thanks for the insightful conversation. See you."

"Wait a second." Frenchy exclaimed. He showed Karen a bottle of beer he grabbed from the stand behind him. "You see, I'm promoting these new drinks. They are made with a special kind of kelp I recollect from a very singular place under the sea. Tell me madame, have you ever heard of Kelp beers?"

Karen accepted the bottle and grabbed it so hard that it almost shattered in her hand.

"Heard of them? They destroyed my marriage!" Karen muttered.

"What was that?"

"I said," Karen bit her tongue. "I said they taste good. They give one hell of a hungover though…"

"Oui, just normal side effects." Frenchy laughed. "But you see, this is a new, improved version! Not only do they have twice the flavor, they are also guaranteed to allow you to wake up as fresh as rose in the morning. Trust me, I drank a few last night, and I woke up feeling great."

"You could have fooled me."

"Pardon?"

"I said that's incredible." Karen handed the bottle back at Frenchy. "Thanks for the offer, but…"

But what? I just got fired, my marriage is doomed and I haven't eaten anything today! I said it myself, I deserve a treat! And since the strawberry shortcake is no longer an option…

"On second thought," Karen said to Frenchy ", give me two six packs."

"Alright!" Frenchy laughed in amazement before handing the packs to Karen. "Merci beacoup…uhm…"

"Karen."

"Ah, just like her! What a coincidence."

"What?"

"Oh, nothing. Just thinking of some friends." Frenchy shrugged, "In any case, thanks for your support! Me and my boss will be forever grateful. You know, you even act a little like her!"

"Like your boss?"

"No! I meant Karen."

"Me?"

"No, the other one. The one that lives in the Chum Bucket."

"Yeah sure, whatever you say." Karen said as she turned around and left Frenchy speaking with himself. "You weirdo."

Karen paid for the beers and left.

"…and their marriage is so funny. I enjoy watching them quarrel from time to time. Hey, do you want to see a photo of them?" Frenchy prepared his cellphone. "Don't they look adorable? Hello? Karen?" But he was alone, "Damn, she left me talking with myself."

Far from being offended, Frenchy smiled under his helmet.

That's something computer Karen would do. I wonder if I should introduce this new Karen to Charleston. I think they would get along very well! Oh, but he's already married to another Karen…too bad. Something tells they would have made a great couple.

Karen opened a bottle of beer.

Charleston opened a can of milkshake.

She didn't care that she had been fired.

He didn't care about Larry's warning about the secondary effects.

Karen didn't care if the French man had lied to her about the absence of hungover.

Charleston didn't care if he hallucinated all night long.

Both had only one thing in mind.

Let's just have fun tonight and forget about everything else!

Karen and Plankton exclaimed at the same time.

They reached to their headphones, and both drank harder when they didn't find them on their ears.

On their cellphones, they both had the last message they had sent each other. They were strangely similar, both in syntax and dishonesty

From Charleston to Karen: I had a great day, babe! I feel full of energy! I'm drowning in excitement to see you.

From Karen to Charleston: I was on fire today, dear! Job was great! I'm feeling much better now. I can't wait to meet you!

As they drank, they shared one thought.

Great, now I'm lying to you. I ruined everything. I'm not worthy of you. I'm sorry, honey. You deserved better. Instead, you're stuck with me. Maybe it would have been better if we… had…never…

They collapsed on their beds at the same time.

Karen held the sixth bottle of kelp beer in her hand, Charleston held the third of the many cloned milkshake cans he had created out of the one Larry had given him.

Both their cellphones went into sleep mode and showed the same screensaver.

It was the photo Charleston had away taken from Frenchy.

The one that showed the little plankton and the underwater computer dancing together.